


Undying

by HandsOfGold



Category: Powerwolf (Band)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 21:57:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20015410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsOfGold/pseuds/HandsOfGold
Summary: When the sun in your heart stopped to shine...





	Undying

He had been sleeping on the couch, not knowing anything better to do after completing a short run on this rainy autumn day. The sky in the arriving dusk was gray and veiled by clouds that could burst at any moment to empty their cleansing contents onto the earth with its heavy air. He'd been sleeping, had woken up to the sound of the grand piano playing in the living room.

It wasn't a seldom sound to be heard, yet it seemed to touch him in a unique kind of way, a way that most other other pieces had failed to create. Seeping through the air the melody reached him to enclose his still sleepy mind, forcing him to focus on nothing but its enchanting, otherworldly tune.

Still with bare feet he stood up to follow the melody, its sound leading him through the corridors. The wooden floor felt comfortably smooth beneath his feet, the air drenched in the music that kept playing, flowing, like a silent and tender stream that could drown you in spite of its calm surface. He could feel its softness dragging him down and what it created in his mind was worry.

Having opened the door to the living room he stopped where he stood as to not disturb the creator of the music. He was sitting on the stool in front of the piano, both his legs perched firmly on the floor while his arms followed his hands and fingers, flying over the ivory keys without a visible struggle. As if to underline the perfect flow of the music his eyes were closed - as far as it could be seen from the doorway behind his back - while his fingers played the tune by themselves.

No music sheets, as usually, were scattered around him on the floor or the piano itself. They could be spotted on the desk in the adjacent room, far beyond the reach of his eyes. His body was following the movements of hands and fingers in a slower way, swaying from left to right where the keys led it. His hair, tied back in something that might have been a bun once but had fallen apart into a messy ponytail, moved oh so slightly to complete the choreography his body seemed to be performing in tune with the music.

The melody kept flowing, each tune floated through the room to dance around the previous ones, entangle, unite with them. They created a stream that took over one's senses to transfer them onto a different plane of existence, another world, another universe of thought and emotion.

The piece was pouring straight out of a heart, formed by a tormented and depressed soul.

The final note lingered in the air for seconds before it lost itself in the silence as the others had been covered by following ones. Stillness remained, a stillness in which he was returned to the real world, out of the vast emptiness of a foreign mind.

"Beautiful," Roel said, quietly and softly, leaving the doorway to step closer towards the piano whose player winced at the instant upon hearing his voice.

"Thank you," he said, voice oddly pressed, after a long phase of hesitation. When Roel stepped behind him and put his hands around his shoulders he relaxed noticeably. Roel leaned down to press a kiss to his temple, inhaling his beloved's scent.

"Are you okay?" Roel asked, still gently, as he leant back again and began rubbing soft circles on his shoulder blades. A small shrug.

Roel had known the day would come where he would receive this response, no matter how hard he prayed it was still far away. But when the first notes of this particular piano piece had reached his ears he'd known it wasn't far anymore. Art was the window to a soul, and it was pure pain that was told in its gentle tune.

"New one?" he asked instead of further boring into emotional questions. A nod answered the question, and with it came the silent plead not to force him to answer with words. He granted a break. Quietly removing his hands from the other's shoulder blades he sat down, back against the cold, large window below which the city lights spread out, and legs pulled to his chest.

As Benjamin got up from the low stool he extinguished the cover lights with a quick movement of his hand, leaving only the dim, warm desk lamp to cast its shine onto the neutral, cream coloured walls. If it had been an attempt of deceiving Roel's eyes with darkness it had failed, for in the moment he looked at his boyfriend he was able to read his dull eyes, flushed skin and the tiredness in his expression.

"Where were you last night?" he asked softly as the other joined him, safe in his loose embrace. The only sound to be heard was Roel's own breathing.

"Out," the other then muttered, "cleaning my mind. Needed to get it free." Roel knew he hated to lie. But he also knew that each phrase was carefully thought through, intended to portray a softened version of the truth it originally expressed. He had lain awake past 4am this night until finally his body had given up the fight, had woken up to find the other asleep, had fallen asleep again on the couch before the other had woken up.

"Why?" was the only thing he asked as his stomach contracted.

"Everything's so... much," the other replied. His slender shape was fragile tonight, helpless and small in Roel's arms.

"You promised," he whispered, feeling just as helpless as his tone of voice told.

"'know I did." His body was tense, certainly not by intention as all energy had been drained from his body. Roel could feel himself tensing too, pulled in by the memories that had constantly been haunting him. He couldn't quite grasp the way he felt. Was it anger, hurt or betrayal? Was it something else he couldn't consider?

The city was a black rug with countless tiny lights woven into its surface. It was as if earth and sky had been turned around not only in Roel's mind but physically. Everything had been in perfect order for so long, for the previous four years their stars had been aligned. He didn't know what it was that had made the other fall back into old patterns but he feared the future that was now looming directly in front of his eyes more than he feared everything else.

He knew what it would feel like. Sitting alone at home by night with the smallest light on in order to possibly fall to sleep, despite knowing he would never be able to dream away. Drowning in worry about someone who could be out longer for the night but could also be dying in a ruin of a house by the side of junkies who wouldn't even notice if one of them was dead. Staring into dull eyes upon waking up. Holding a much too skinny body with one arm, holding long hair away from the vomit. Stumbling through the night in a fruitless attempt to find the person you cared most for in the world, whatever terrible conditions they might be in. Spending nights in ERs. Blank, uncomprehending looks from friends and family. Why do you keep doing this?

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly. A weak shrug.

"How should I?" His voice was rough and his breath smelled of alcohol as he turned his head by a little inch.

"Tired. So damn tired."

Roel closed his eyes as a wave of pain flooded his body. A shiver ran through his chest as he kept holding the beloved, broken figure in his arms. The heart rate against his chest was slowed down, way too slow. Mixing was never a good idea. Had he overseen anything, any sign, any detail that could have prevented this from happening?

Once doesn't hurt was what so many people said. Once doesn't count. But if anything, once counted heavier than everything else. Once was the gateway to twice. Twice was the gateway to thrice. Thrice was the gateway to an eternity of hell.

"You need to sleep," he said, softly but expressly.

"Can't."

"Sleep." He repeated. A head shake. Fingers unconsciously held onto his wrist, digging into his arm. Then, a split second later, Benjamin's head dropped to his chest. Roel's thoughts immediately shut themselves down, leaving him in a state of pure alarm.

"Ben?" he called out softly, shaking the other's shoulders.

"Can you hear me? Are you there?"

"Yeah," came the answer, a mere breath against his skin. His boyfriend wasn't moving.

"Can you move your head?" he tried again.

"Can't," came the answer. His speech was strongly slurred in all its quietness.

"Everything's... everything's moving. I can't."

"I'm calling an ambulance." Roel's whole body was filled with a fear that seeped through every fibre of his being. Once, he thought, but had it only been once? Had he overlooked something on tour? The festival seasons was often a blur of heat and tipsiness, it was easy to overlook something, even if it was as vital as this.

Mechanically he spoke to the woman at the other end. She seemed to understand him, even though he could not control the words coming out of his mouth. In spite of the four years that had passed he remembered exactly what to say. Habit? Was time about to turn back? No, he recalled, it was never like this. He'd never been home.

He kept looking at his boyfriend throughout the duration of the call. Remembered everything once again. Wondered what was going on in this broken mind. He still wasn't moving as Roel hung up and, turning the light back on, returned to his side. His breathing was as shallow as it never should be in order for his brain to function properly.

Instinctively Roel kneeled down next to him to check his pulse. It was as weak as his heart rate was. Roel desperately tried to remember what to do in a situation like this, but his mind was wiped blank, emptied of all its contents that might have been dug out from the seeming oblivion they had drifted into. He painfully became aware of his complete and utter helplessness. If Benjamin was to die now he would not be able to do anything at all. He would have to feel the man he loved dying in his arms, and even as he tried to banish the haunting image from his mind his heart clutched.

It was the feeling he hadn't been able to grasp at first that took over now, that wasn't a pure single emotion but a mixture of many, rushing through his nerves so quickly it made him dizzy even without standing. He couldn't bear the oblivious state he was in.

"Can you talk?" he asked, not even caring that his voice was breaking. He was still kneeling next to Benjamin, now sliding one arm underneath the other's back to hold him again, a necessity in order to understand the silent words.

"Maybe. A little." He sounded confused.

"What's going on here, Roel?" he asked and sounded like a frightened child, just so incredibly weak.

"Why can't I see you?"

It's because of the shit you took again, Roel was tempted to scream, but the heavy feeling in his chest pressed down the anger. He swallowed hard. It wasn't as if, after all that had happened, a relapse could be fought off by pure willpower. Not when exposed to the drug, at least. He silently cursed whoever had been responsible for this exposure.

Maybe it was Benjamin's own fault. If there was one thing that could be said about him it was that he didn't like to play safe. He always went a little further, leaned over the edge of the abyss just to see how far he could go before he fell. Even when falling he would push it further to see just how far he could fall before crashing.

"I don't know," Roel whispered at last, a belated response to the other's question. Of course he knew.

"It'll be over soon. They'll help you. They'll be here. You'll be okay. Soon." It was a lie, possibly the biggest lie he'd ever told. Looking at the weak figure in his arms, feeling the cold skin against his - deep inside he knew that he wasn't going to be okay, yet his mind still didn't seem to realize this truth. Or it didn't want to wrap around it, to keep the calmness and the deception so that he wouldn't go insane. That he could care. He called the other's name again.

"Talk to me, please. Tell me everything. Remember the way you did it once?"

"I remember." The smallest hint of a sad smile showed on Benjamin's lips.

"But I... it's all so... unclear. I can't remember anything. You came here, I remember that. Before... the last clear thing... the night on the field, you remember?"

"I remember," Roel said quietly, but it felt like a knife in his heart. That night, the final warm night of the year, the last, dry, late summer night. It had been weeks ago, weeks in which this must have been going on without his notice. His chest continued to tighten painfully.

"Do you remember that night on the airfield?" Benjamin whispered against his skin.

"Our first..." Roel muttered, only realizing that he was crying when he could tears running down his face. He wiped them away almost angrily.

"Don't get all nostalgic here," he said, but the tears showed in his voice.

"We'll have plenty of time to revive these moments."

"You've always been a terrible liar," Benjamin said. His eyes were closed, the eyelids flattered lightly. His face was white as chalk.

"Shut up," Roel whispered, not succeeding in sounding energetic because he was fully crying now. He bend down slightly to kiss Benjamin's lips, blue tinged and cold

"I'm scared," his boyfriend confessed in his arms.

I'm scared, too. Scared to death, he thought, but instead of a reply held the other just a little closer. He didn't seem to realize what was happening. Maybe his mind had erased the possibility of an overdose and the dangers that came from the drugs. The time his ambitions had been to wreck his body as much as possible were over, but that didn't prevent his body from craving the high.

"I didn't want the high, initially," he'd once admitted, in one of the endless therapy sessions they'd both attended, in a time when Roel's nerves had been wrecked seemingly beyond repair.

"Of course I started craving it, you see, that was what I wanted. I wanted to see for long long I could make myself suffer in withdrawal. How much pain i could inflict upon myself. When I felt the craving decreasing... that was when I'd go for the next one. This was my way of torturing myself."

Of course this had been the begin of the path into addiction. The time in which Roel had entered his life had been the final section of this path, the path that, becoming darker and darker along the way, would eventually lead to the abyss he was about to fall in today.

The realization he hadn't been able to deny for long hit him hard. He knew that the other had fallen already, that he was falling and the crash was only a matter of time. Very little, very limited time, above all. The way his body was uncontrollably shaken by sobs didn't go unnoticed by his boyfriend.

"Turn the lights off. Please," he whispered weakly. He'd always preferred darkness. In the shine of the tiny desk lamp in the study Roel prayed for the ambulance to arrive quickly, even though there was no sound to be heard yet. How much time had passed since the call? Five minutes? Ten?

His world was being drenched in black. The knife in his heart was driven deeper and deeper, turning in the wound. His body bend forward in physical pain. His heart was dying within him, simultaneously with the man in his arms.

With his free hand he reached out for his beloved's face, cupped his cheek, caressed every inch of the already waxen skin. There was still shallow breathing to be heard, breathing that faltered more and more often, a heart rate that slowed down and seemed to skip beats. Time was frozen in the utter silence around them.

There were tears staining his beloved's face, a slight tremble ran through his body and robbed the energy that could have given him more time, more time until the ambulance arrived.

"Are you hurting?" he whispered in fear. A nod.

"I don't want to die like this," Benjamin whispered, sounding even more frightened now. Someone who had given up a fight against an all-consuming power and had settled on fruitless hopes now.

"I wanted to be with you. Until... the end of all our days. I... I wanted more time, but it's... it's been too much to take... lately. I wanted all the years. I didn't want it to... to end like this..." Roel understood what he was trying to say, even though he wasn't able to phrase it. It filled him with both relief and even more pain.

Terribly enough he'd fallen back into addiction. But he hadn't overdosed on purpose. He hadn't fallen so deep that he'd wanted everything to end again. It had been an accident. But all this meant was that he would die in vain, with no relief being granted by death, instead having to spend his final moments in emotional pain for which there could be no relief, no matter what Roel could do. His heart was bleeding out.

"I love you," he whispered, kissing him again, softly. Something deep within him kept clinging to the hope that the ambulance would still arrive in time, be able to give this horrendous tale a good ending. He lay down to put his arms around his boyfriend as if they were in bed, in the middle of the night, having woken up and about to fall back to sleep with the reassuring presence of the other close.

The vivid love that had filled his heart was dying, fading to pain. In this moment it hurt how much he loved him. He wanted to freeze time, to keep this fading moment for eternity, as long as they were still alive. It became painfully clear what he would be without his lover.

He couldn't be without him.

"I love you," Benjamin whispered, and it broke the last bit of living love in Roel's heart to pieces. The occasions on which he'd said these three words were extremely rare. He had given up all hope, and simultaneously Roel's last hope floated away into darkness, giving way to all the pain and blood. He held Benjamin's hand in his.

He couldn't live without him, he realized as he heard sirens in the distance but blended them out to focus on the sounds of the last breaths of his beloved, frail and faint and weak, hating the knowledge of having to kiss him goodbye as he leaned down. By the time the sirens stopped in front of the house the breaths had faded even for the most watchful ear.


End file.
